Mandalorian Sweater Vest
by Vegetables and Lazer Guns
Summary: AU: Obi-Wan and Jango Fett were adopted brothers on Concord Dawn before Obi-Wan was taken for Jedi training. Now that Jango has been captured in the aftermath of Genosis, Obi-Wan has to put on his argyle dad-jetpack to raise his nephew Boba. Life choices will be disapproved of.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: For Kelsi: a fluff.

Chapter One:

Introducing: Uncle Ben's Prison Dinners

"I just need a word," his now ex-master had said as he walked into the interrogation room. It had been such a neutral tone, but then, Obi-Wan had very few tones in his repertoire. There was 'neutral', 'disappointed', 'pretending to be disappointed so that Anakin doesn't get the wrong idea,' and every so often 'utterly inappropriate joy' popped out at surprising and inconvenient moments. As much as those moments caught Anakin off balance, he realized that he may have never truly experienced shock before today.

"You idiot! You _idiot_!"

" _I'm_ the idiot?"

"What? What was that? You don't get to use the incredulous tone. You're in jail. You're in-! You're in _jail_!"

Anakin, for example, did not know that Obi-Wan repeated things when he flew into an apoplectic rage. Of all people, Anakin was certain that he would be the one who knew that, but he wasn't even aware that Master Kennobi, he of the legendary even-keel, had anger levels that went anywhere beyond 'stern but responsible scolding.' And yet-

"I'll put my foot through your helmet!"

"I'll put my foot through your skull!"

"Try it!"

"Untie me!"

"Fine!"

Padme was through the door before Anakin could even register what Obi-Wan had just said, hauling the older Jedi's arm away from the release pad. Skywalker strode in behind her somewhat dazedly. His life's rock of considered speech and measured action stood before him, red and shaking, facing off with the equally furious bounty hunter who strained at his bonds, fingers twitching as his mind filled a throat in beneath them. A ten year old clone sat quietly on the floor, a makeshift energy tether keeping him in the corner of the sterile, white room. The newly minted knight had not prepared for most aspects of this situation.

"Master, perhaps we should..." Anakin began, trailing off when he realized that he didn't know how the 'act responsibly' and 'think before you slice' speech was supposed to go. It just didn't sound right when he tried to imagine it in his own voice. In that sense, he was lucky that the bounty hunter wasn't finished.

"What would Jaster say?"

" _I don't know_!" Obi-Wan hollered, a never before seen vein popping out in his forehead.

"Okay," Padme interjected. Oh, Padme, wonderful Padme, Anakin sighed internally. Please fix Obi-Wan. He broke. "Anakin, why don't you take Master Kennobi outside. Master Kennobi, why don't you… breathe into your hands for a minute. I'll take over here."

Obi-Wan and the bounty hunter glared at each other until the door closed on the Jedi. The bearded knight put his hands over his mouth as Padme had instructed, his muffled grumbling a low, rumbling constant.

"What would Jaster say… so immature, who… such a child, I'm… I have a career. A legal career, and people respect me. They do. I am a respected adult. A respected adult with a sword. Maybe Jaster would say excellent job, Obi-Wan, on becoming such a respected and be-sworded individual-"

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked slowly, lowering his head to try to find his gaze. The Jedi breathed in deeply through his nose, held the air in for a moment, dropped his arms and squared his shoulders.

"I have to talk to the Counsel," he stated shortly, a responsible adult once again. Anakin stared after him as he walked away, unsure if the spittle spraying rage had ever happened, or if Anakin had just had some kind of unusual stroke. He would have to ask Padme later.

Skywalker meandered back into the interrogation room, too distracted by his own curiosity to pay much attention to the official information that they were supposed to be gathering, which at this point had very little to do with his wife's attempted assassination. To that end, he let Padme do the questioning and supported her efforts by menacing from the corner. He turned his attention to the child on the other side of the room, interested to see that while the boy's face was a perfectly blank shell, his eyes looked as confused as Anakin. A little brother in befuddlement, he took an absent minded liking to the clone.

The boy noticed that he was being watched and brought his feet in towards his chest with a defensive scowl. Anakin maintained a scowl of his own, but felt odd about it. Should he get the kid a chair? Do adults tie children to corners and make then sit on the floor? That didn't sound right. Is this what being a knight was going to be like- having to wonder what an adult was supposed to be doing? Why wasn't Obi-Wan handling this?

The bounty hunter followed Anakin's gaze to the clone and pushed his own chair over to him with his heel. Anakin fought down a blush. Out-responsibled by a criminal. This was going to be a steeper learning curve than he had anticipated.

Padme wasn't getting far with the hunter. The boy climbed into the chair and returned his full attention to the exchange. Mostly the hunter refused to answer Padme entirely, although sometimes he would give a short, dismissive, and in all likelihood misleading replies. Maybe they would have more luck going through the items on the hunter's ship. It was still on Genosis, as far as he knew, and it was going to take a specialty squad a few weeks to make it safe for anyone without the hunter's exact biometrics to enter it without issue. Anakin had originally thought that this wouldn't be a problem, considering the literal army of people who should share that biometric signature at the Republic's disposal, but apparently the hunter's security system was tailored to detect telomers, the junk on the end of DNA strands, which was somewhat different on the age-accelerated clones.

Anakin's gaze darted back to the unique, non-age-accelerated clone in the corner when Obi-Wan returned and, as if reading his old apprentice's mind, deactivated the close's energy tether. The senior knight breathed deeply through his nose and squared his shoulders again, meeting the hunter's eyes.

"I've negotiated with the Counsel," he informed the man, who, intelligently, swallowed whatever bile that comment set on his tongue with a poisonous expression. This was a definite improvement for the both of them. "You're to remain in custody. You will be interrogated and your trial will be postponed for as long as there is an ongoing investigation."

"Boba," the man replied, quickly enough that it was clear that he wasn't really going to be listening to the details of the situation until he was provided with the answer to whatever question he'd just implied.

"Boba will be staying with me until a more suitable situation presents itself," Obi-Wan answered, maintaining eye contact as the hunter's jaw clenched, unclenched, and clenched again, paralyzed by the competing strings of obscenities all rushing to it at once. That noted, the man's face was otherwise impressively blank for the thick waves of hatred peeling rolling off of him. Anakin would have been half way to impressed if said hunter hadn't hired someone to murder his wife. Just as well, he excused as his inner Obi-Wan chastised him for his increasingly frequent emotional disquiet. Rolling thunderclaps of hatred is really more appropriate for menacing.

"Boba," the hunter began, finally turning away from Obi-Wan to address the clone. "Go with your uncle Ben."


	2. 2: Shark Face

Chapter Two

Shark Face

Midnight. Obi-Wan stifled a yawn and slid into the kitchen of his small apartment. With half an eye on Anakin's old bedroom he made a kettle of Noobian Red tea, carried a chair into a dark corner of the living room facing the front door, and waited. It was a familiar game he'd played with Anakin in the early days of his apprenticeship: what time does the child think adults are definitely asleep by?

Two cups in Obi-Wan was trying to call up the equanimity to stop cursing Jango's sleeping habits. The way that man stayed awake well into the small hours of the morning fiddling with his armour and woke up a few minutes later to go shoot things had obviously skewed his son's perception of a normal human sleep cycle.

The Jedi frowned. Was that a genetic tendency? Was he going to have to fight a war while barely functional because Jango had decided against mating with some kind of hibernating species that would have evened Boba out?

A tangential thought burst forward, running through him like an electric shock as his mind skipped back to the assassination attempt on Senator Amidala: had he cut off his sister-in-law's hand? He sipped his tea nervously, considering all of those 'disarmed' jokes he'd been having to sit on since Anakin's accident. Hm. Maybe no puns around Boba for a while, just to be sure that nothing slipped out.

Speaking of Boba, Obi-Wan felt the boy's adrenaline surge and so pushed himself a little bit further into the shadows. Jango's emotions and life signature were the first that the knight had ever learned to read, and as such each decision made under the influence of heightened emotions by the clone that he'd raised felt, from this distance, like they were being shouted directly into Obi-Wan's brain.

Boba crept out of his room, perfectly silent, the locking mechanism doing about as much good against him as it had against Anakin. No surprise. He checked quickly around the apartment, listening carefully. Hearing nothing, he focused in on the main door, quietly B-lining towards it. Tunnel vision, Obi-Wan observed; a very normal issue for his age. Easy enough to fix with a few blaster shots set to sting from his blind spot. Maybe tomorrow.

Or maybe never. Obi-Wan shook himself out of Master-mode as Boba began working on the main lock. He breached it in very little time, but as soon as the door began to slide it open, Kennobi depressed the 'close' button using the Force. Boba blinked once in confusion and hit open again. Obi-Wan hit close, plugging his nose to hide the short intake of air that preceded a giggle. This was his favourite part. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close.

Boba checked his handiwork with the wiring again before glancing around the apartment. The boy grabbed an identification card off of the kitchen counter and used it to unscrew a chair leg, watching Obi-Wan's bedroom door as he went. Leaving the chair on its side he scooted back over to the door, hit the button and jammed his new lever into the opening, using the door frame as a fulcrum. Clever. Jango was always very clever. Obi-Wan might disagree with his overall life choices, but it would be a tactical error to ignore the fact that he was brilliant in the moment.

Boba's lever overwhelmed the door's mechanical power, so Obi-Wan had to slam it using the Force, making the decision to do so at about the same time that Boba stuck his hand through it. The clone's cheeks puffed out even as the rest of his face screwed up, trying not to make noise as he pulled his throbbing hand back in. Obi-Wan spilled his tea jumping up and hitting the lights, Boba staring up wide eyed as the knight ran over.

"My apologies, you're faster than I'd anticipated, and I- oh, have a seat. Tea?" Obi-Wan shuffled him over to a chair and had a cup of tea in his hands before Boba could reply. The Jedi grabbed a medi-cooling cell from his belt and handed it to the boy to hold. He held his hands a few inches over the injury and smiled in a self-effacing way. "Just swollen. Do you take anything in your tea?"

Boba stared at him silently. Obi-Wan, used to Anakin, waited patiently for a sarcastic remark that never came. At this age Jango, for all the good it would have done him, would have kicked him in the knee-cap and tried the door again. This boy just observed like a tiny, wavy-haired shark. Waiting. Congratulations, Jango, he's adorable.

Obi-Wan pulled his chair out of the corner to sit facing Boba, keeping up an easy smile. Perhaps he could find some common ground.

"So… did your father tell you anything about me?" he wondered, clearing his throat in a way that he hoped didn't betray the awkwardness he felt asking the question. Boba stayed quiet for a while, maintaining his expression. Obi-Wan again found himself grumbling internally about Jango's parenting skills. How does one even teach a ten year old to do 'shark face'? _Why_ does one teach a ten year old to do shark face? Why, Jango, why, why, why-

"Yes." An answer! Single word answers are still answers! And Jango had mentioned him to his son, which was- "He said you were dead."

Oh. Boba sniffed the tea and did not sip it.

"Well-"

"Probably because he was embarrassed," Boba interjected, cutting him off and staring him dead in the eye. He paused for a moment, the eye contact straining at the edges of what one might call socially acceptable. "Because you're a Jedi."

I am a respected and be-sworded individual, Obi-Was repeated mentally, and my brother is raising the craziest possible version of himself, because of course he is. On the bright side, that was a fifteen word answer, with full sentences thrown in. Progress?

"Why don't you find something that you like more than tea," Obi-Wan suggested, feeling the smile becoming forced. "I just need to make a quick call."

Boba wandered back into the kitchen as Obi-Wan turned to block his view of the holo-phone and dialed into the Temple's cells.

"Jango?"

"Mm," the hunter replied, still wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

"You told your son that I was dead?"

"Mm? No," he answered, eyes tracing some pattern or other. Obi-Wan sighed irritably.

"Then why did he tell me that you did?"

"Boba has a particular sense of humour," Jango explained, his own mouth twitching up at the corners. "He's very funny."

"Funny."

"Yes, funny: ha, ha. Maybe it's against the Jedi Code." Obi-Wan took a deep breath and let his anger flow out of him as he exhaled.

"One more thing."

"Mm."

"Why did you teach him 'shark-face'?"

Jango looked over with the proudest possible smirk to reply, "I didn't." Obi-Wan could hear the roaring internal laughter in Jango's mind both through the phone and, impossibly, up from the actual cells so many levels beneath him. "Sleep tight, Ben."


	3. Darth Cousin

Chapter Three

Darth Cousin

"And remember to make him wear his hat."

"Yes Obi-Wan."

"And put this sun-screen on him before he goes outside. It's special."

"Yes Obi-Wan."

"And don't use my ten year old nephew to disarm any deadly booby-traps."'

"I hadn't even considered-"

"Anakin."

"Yes Obi-Wan."

"It will be fine, Master Kennobi," Padme assured the senior Jedi, subtly ushering him towards his waiting ship. "Anakin will keep Boba on Coruscant while you're gone- and like you said, you'll be back in a week. I can keep an eye on them for one week."

Obi-Wan struggled with words for a moment, but found no polite way to explain that the magnitude of potential problem that was Anakin, made exponentially worse by the sheer force of purposefully induced behavioural disorder that was Boba, would be in absolutely no way within the Senator's control if the situation began to escalate.

"Of course. I must be off, then," the Knight excused, leaving for his vessel. Padme waited for him to board, smiling and waiving, before turning to Anakin.

"I'm actually going to be incredibly busy this week. The Senate thought that we could count on Mandalore's support against the Separatists, but we've just had word that they intend to remain neutral," she explained evenly. "Just tell me that you really won't use Boba to disarm Jango Fett's traps."

"What? A ten year old? Come on, you know how Obi-Wan gets," Anakin answered with a chuckle, cocking his head endearingly. Padme smiled back at him. Boba observed.

"Alright, I have to go. I'll be free for an hour or so tomorrow morning, if Boba needs a break from you." She and Anakin laughed together and looked down at Boba, who stared back blankly from underneath his large, floppy hat. As had been agreed in an emergency meeting a day and a half into Obi-Wan's custody of the child, they pretended he'd reacted normally and moved on.

Twenty minutes later, after some light meandering and shoulder checking, Anakin shuffled Boba into a ship.

"I never told her I wouldn't," the Jedi explained as he piloted them out of the atmosphere. "I asked two questions and made an unrelated statement. That means it's not lying."

The clone shot him an incredulous look, and Anakin pulled his floppy hat down over his eyes in response. Boba struggled to shimmy his head out of the wide-brimmed monstrosity, throwing it into the back as Skywalker punched the ship into hyperspace.

"I'm not opening the ship," Boba informed the Jedi sullenly.

"Sure you are. You open the ship and we'll go visit your dad," Anakin replied, proud of himself. This is what Knights do- helping people, problem solving. He'd get the Republic all of the information they were sure to find on Jango's ship, and Boba would be happy enough to not tell Obi-Wan about how he did it. Genius.

"You have to take me to visit dad. Mr. Kennobi said so," the boy told him, kicking his heels against his chair.

"That doesn't mean I _have_ to take you. It means I'm _supposed_ to take you. Are we doing what we're supposed to right now?"

And… the happy knight feeling is gone. Anakin knew it was bad as the words left his mouth, but they'd just come out, and now he was blackmailing a child into walking through deadly traps by threatening to cut off access to his father.

"I'm not doing it," Boba replied, crossing his arms. "Mr. Kennobi will take me when he gets back, anyway."

"Not if there's a chem leak in Jango's cell before Obi-Wan returns." What? Anakin's inner Obi-Wan couldn't even comment on what he'd just said, standing slack-jawed while Anakin mentally withered under his gaze. Boba's small fists clenched as he glared at the Jedi.

"I'll stop you. And I'll tell Mr. Kennobi."

"Not if you have an accident, first." It was like evil word-vomit, he just couldn't stop. Should he throw in a hint of torture and just go for the evil hat-trick? There were days when Anakin was sure, deep down, that Obi-Wan was secretly trying to chop off people's hands and coming up with excuses for it later, and he'd still never heard anything like this out of him.

But it was better to say bad things and not do them then to do bad things and not say them, right? Yeah. Yeah, that seemed okay. Anyway, he had to figure out how to be a Knight his own way, and in the end he'd get better results than Obi-Wan, and everyone would still have all of their hands.

Except for him.

Anakin smiled to himself, reassured. Boba, for once, allowed the fact that he was unimpressed with the situation show on his face. The Jedi decided to take this as a sign of progress and ignored the fact that it probably looked like he was smiling at the thought of pushing the kid through the air-lock.

Okay. Fifteen hours on a ship with a child you've just threatened to murder. Probably not a sentence frequently followed by, 'wacky hijinks ensued', but-

Anakin lost his train of thought as his com buzzed. After quickly checking to find Obi-Wan's symbols illuminated on the disk, he grabbed Boba and ran them to a less-obviously-in-a-spaceship room to answer.

"Hey Obi-Wan, what's up?" Anakin hailed, emptying himself of emotion. He knew that no one should really be able to sense emotions through one of these devices from more than a building or so away unless a force user was purposefully projecting their thoughts through it, but in this situation it seemed better to be safe than sorry.

"Where is Boba's hat?" Master Kennobi replied.

"We're inside."

"Ah. I suppose," Obi-Wan acknowledged with a short nod. "What are you doing?"

"What?"

"Inside. What are you doing inside?"

"We're… talking," Anakin explained, still technically not lying.

"You're talking. With Boba," Obi-Wan half scoffed, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, he's a funny kid." Still technically true, just less 'ha-ha' funny and more 'this yogurt smells' funny.

"You find him funny," the older Knight reiterated slowly. "Boba, tell me a joke." Boba glanced between the two Jedi, eyes widening slightly as he tried to think.

"Bananakin."

Anakin groaned internally while forcing a laugh, suddenly sure that the bounty hunter had never actually explained to his son what a joke was. Still, this might be fine. Adults laugh at kids when their jokes aren't funny, right? Pretending that kids are good at things is definitely normal adult behaviour. The only remaining issue would be whether or not Obi-Wan thought he was a normal adult.

"Anakin I _told you not to take him to Genosis_!" Well that answered that question.

"What's that, Obi-Wan? You're breaking up. Must be a problem with my com, I'd better go fix that, bye."

" _Anakin_ -!" Boba snorted as Anakin ended the call. The Jedi glared.

"You… be glad you have both hands." And torture for the evil hat trick.


	4. Child Services

A/N: Thanks to all of my unexpected viewers and reviewers! Thought I'd take a moment to answer some questions.

MissiriKoharehn on why I keep spelling Kenobi 'Kennobi': because I'm an idiot.

KunnegAndris on Obi-Wan's love life: I actually have to do more research on what is cannon, now. I was a big fan of Jango Fett's _Bloodlines_ run, so if I say anything weird and wrong I'm just going to blame it on that. Obi-Wan will have lived until he was about three in traditional Mandalore culture, which accounts for his not-so-secret love of limb removal.

Chapter 4

Anakin strode authoritatively through the security checkpoints at the Genosis dock. It was surprisingly easy to sneak Boba in under the radar when the kid could pass for literally any other human who appeared to be around his age on this planet, but it made it predictably difficult to keep track of him. In the interest of saving time, Anakin scribbled a large, bold, 'BF' on the clone's forehead and lopped off a chunk of hair so as to be able to pick him out from behind. It wasn't as if he had to hide anything from Obi-Wan now, anyway, and besides, he gave himself lightsaber buzz-cuts all the time.

"Can I help you find something, Sir?" an older, uniformed clone asked him at the final checkpoint.

"I'm looking for Jango Fett's ship," the Jedi explained shortly. With his old master knowing exactly where he was headed and not more than a half hour behind, there was no time to waste with trying to keep a low profile.

"Far end of the shipping bay in bomb quarantine, you can't miss it. Best to leave the scout behind, though; the specialists are ordering in a higher caliber force field to contain the potential explosion based on some of the new traps they were looking at in there," the Trooper advised, nodding to Boba. Boba smiled briefly at the mention of extra-special explosives, but resumed glaring when Anakin looked down.

"Thank you, Trooper," Skywalker replied, directing Boba in front of him, regardless. No time for explanations, people would understand that we wasn't just being a dick later. Maybe. Hopefully. If no one blew up.

Boba walked slowly, so that Anakin had to prod him frequently to reach the ship before Obi-Wan arrived. By the time they were half way there they were attracting stares. There were too many people around to threaten the kid again, and definitely too many people around to throw him over his shoulder and sprint, so Anakin shoved him along using the force until Boba stopped moving his feet entirely, digging his heels into the rock. The Jedi grabbed him under the arm and lead him to the ship with Boba making a show of being dragged.

"It's too hot," the child announced loudly.

"No it's not, you're fine," Anakin replied, glancing down at Boba and doing a double take. There was no sullen glare or disturbing lack of expression waiting for him, but rather a set of wide and distressed puppy dog eyes, welling up as he tried to meet the gaze of passers-by.

"I'm not. It hurts everywhere," Boba wailed, going weak at the knees as an actual tear rolled down his face. No- no, no, no, no, Anakin had seen this kid break his leg and look vaguely irritated by the nuisance as droids filled the break with re-connective gel. Temple support staff began to stare as the Jedi pulled the sniffling child along.

"Stop that!" Anakin hissed, frustrated. He was not going to be out-maneuvered by a ten year old, but he really didn't want to go back to the worrisome word vomit of evil.

"I've never been to hot places before *sniff*my planet is cold," Boba told him with as much volume as he could manage while maintaining a convincing quiver in his voice, "and Mr. Kenobi gives me juice for when I get too hot and I have a hat-"

"You hate that hat."

"It's too hot and I need my ha-a-at."

"Your hat is in the ship, you told me you didn't want it," Anakin answered, projecting his voice so that his sudden audience could hear. _Plus you're faking and I know you're faking because you're a soulless little child-beast that I could not have anticipated would be so able to emulate real human emotion._ Anakin concluded that if he ever got to make any decisions about the way the Galaxy was run, it would be illegal to explain the concept of child services to anyone under the age of eighteen.

Boba began to sob. Convincingly. Anakin glanced around to see that everyone in the yard was staring at him, mortified.

"Somebody please call Mr. Keno-o-o-bi," Boba wailed. "It hurts."

"Well played," the Jedi grumbled, tossing the clone over his shoulder and sprinting into the bomb quarantine, stopping only briefly to wrap the Fett boy's arms up in his belt after a small knuckle dug its way into his cauda equina nerve cluster. "Why do you even know that?"

As usual, he received no answer. It was a mostly rhetorical question, anyway. 'Why is your dad so crazy' is what people meant when they started questions with the word 'Why' around Boba.

"I won't do it!" the boy snarled, squirming as Anakin raced past specialists in bulky protective gear and up to the entrance of Jango Fett's ship.

"R2, are you by the gas valve?" Anakin asked the air, miming speaking into his com. Boba growled- an actual, literal growl that made the Jedi reconsider having the child's teeth anywhere near a bite-able area- and yanked himself out of Anakin's grip, slamming his hand against a bio-reader panel.

"Welcome, Boba Fett," a man's gravelly voice intoned as the doors pulled away. Skywalker herded Boba in first, in case of further biometrics based traps, and followed after. He rushed to the control panel in the front of the ship, reckless with anticipation as he began his search for communications records. Someone was trying to kill Padme, and the reason was somewhere in here. Padme would… would…

...definitely find out about this, now. The only question left was whether she would hear about the child-threatening, which seemed like something she might not be okay with. He looked over his shoulder at Boba, who had sweat the marker into a large black smear on his forehead and suddenly appeared a few shades too red. Woops. More importantly, the clone had reverted to his natural dead-eyed expression, staring at a small, spherical object on a shelf just to Anakin's left, just larger than the Jedi's fist. Boba's gaze snapped to, empty and evaluative.

"That's special. Dad says you're not supposed to touch it."

One hundred percent unable to help himself after hearing those words, Anakin locked eyes with Boba and slowly reached out, poking the object with his fingertip. The bomb beeped as it activated. Boba snickered. Anakin blacked out.


	5. Midichlorian Roundhouse

Chapter Five

Midichlorion Roundhouse

Anakin woke up nauseated with a pounding headache to find Obi-Wan glaring at him. If his last memory wasn't of activating some kind of bomb, he wouldn't have been overly concerned: "Wrecked and in Trouble" would be the title he'd give a to a book about his apprenticeship. That being the case, it took him a minute to realize that it wasn't actually Obi-Wan in the flesh there to administer his next lecture, but a video hologram that his old master had apparently prepared in case Anakin regained consciousness in his absence.

Skywalker groaned and rolled towards it, somewhat surprised to find himself in a medi-bed back at the Temple. The movement took a surprising amount of effort. Everything ached, his limbs were nearly too heavy to lift, and his dry throat caused a coughing fit that sent spasms of pain through his muscles. On the bright side, if it had been a regular bomb his head would probably be detached at this point, so yay that. The down side, of course, was that Jango Fett had some kind of new type of bomb on his ship, which was a less than encouraging discovery.

Anakin reached towards Obi-Wan's disapproving visage, hoping that the news wasn't that bad. Hitting the play button, a sentence blinked before him several times where Obi-Wan had been: "Paging Mister Kenobi, clean up on aisle Skywalker."

 _Ha, ha, very funny-_

"You've been in a vegetative state. No one could tell the difference."

 _Well that's unusually hurtful-_

"No one's been guarding your life support between 2-4 AM. I've noticed."

... _What._

Obi-Wan's image appeared again, familiar features folded into that similarly familiar and oddly comforting expression of disappointment. "I trust that I have your attention. I let Boba put a few words at the beginning to express his feelings about your misadventure, and he wrote some jokes for you. Now that you're acquainted with his actual sense of humour, I anticipate that your misdirection will become less obvious. In the mean time, I'm going to leave you with some security footage which I think will explain why I'm yelling at you the next time we have a chance to speak."

Anakin steeled himself for whatever security footage Obi-Wan had that was worse than kidnapping his nephew and forcing the child to disarm deadly traps by threatening the life of his estranged brother. The first five minutes were mainly of Boba in some other part of the healing center, sunburned and puking with an IV drip to maintain his fluids sticking out of one arm. The clone was staring at the regurgitated contents of his stomach, puzzled, while Obi-Wan coaxed him into explaining the incident. Anakin was confused about the vomit until another wave of nausea hit him- it must have been something about the bomb, but Boba wouldn't explain it.

The scene cut away to video feed from Jango Fett's cell. Obi-Wan and Jango sat at opposite ends of a small table, the feed having apparently picked up after their perfunctory half-hour screaming match.

"Where's Boba?" Jango demanded. He and Obi-Wan shared a special talent for making questions sound like orders. Anakin wondered absently where they got it from while hologram Obi-Wan worried at his beard.

"In the healing center. He's been throwing up for the past eighteen hours."

"Eighteen- what's wrong with him?"

"So much," Anakin grumbled at the recording.

"There was a kind of bomb on your ship; Boba tricked someone into activating it. That person is suffering major organ failure in a medically induced coma. Boba is much better, but he's very sick."

Anakin, appreciative that Obi-Wan hadn't used his name when describing how he'd been duped by a ten year old, put his hand over his heart and closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to sense the current state of his organs. Medical use of the Force was not his specialty, but the near lack of feedback he received made no sense, even if his innards were sleeping on the job.

Jango barked his laughter at Obi-Wan. "Bullshit, Ben, Boba's fine. You should have just asked about the bomb for your man's sake before lying to me about my son to get an answer."

Obi-Wan's expression dropped at the accusation, but Anakin never heard what the man shot back with, as the feed blinked forward in time however long it took for them to stop yelling at one another again and for someone to get Boba from the healing center to the cell. Anakin sighed lightly so as to not give his lungs a workout, but that's what he really needed: video editing software for his life.

When the scene cut back in, Jango was pale. Boba sat on the edge of his bed looking down at the floor while he absently rolled the IV pole between his feet, avoiding his father's gaze. Obi-Wan tried to get one of them to explain the bomb, but neither were paying attention to him. Jango put an arm around Boba, who responded in the traditional childhood manner of puking some more, while Obi-Wan became increasingly agitated. Anakin appreciated it- for all of their differences, and as much as they disagreed on methodology, his old master always had his back. Enough to not leave him in a coma, anyway. That was nice.

"Two shelves below where I kept the bomb, back left," Jango explained after several minutes of silence. "I kept a reversal. Recovery time for your man will be around a month."

"And Boba?" Obi-Wan wondered.

"Boba shouldn't have been affected in the first place. This is..." Jango trailed off, face gaunt. Anakin could clearly see that something had occurred to him, but the hunter wasn't going to say anything about it at this juncture, and his brother was not overly concerned about letting it go at that moment, Anankin's state at that time having been what it was.

"I'll have him treated," Obi-Wan assured. Jango nodded as Boba stumbled out of the room leaning heavily on his IV pole with Obi-Wan behind him, ready to catch the boy if he toppled. The scene cut out. Anakin frowned. Sure, it was nice to not be in a coma, but he'd prefer to understand what had left him with major organ failure in the first place.

Skywalker glanced around for something to drink while he figured this out. A glass of water had been left on his bedside table, either by Obi-Wan or Padme. Unable to hoist himself up to grab it, he reached out with the force to pull it towards him and was rewarded for his efforts by a sudden, blinding migraine.

"Ahh, Obi-Wan," Anakin called, grasping blindly for the com. "I know what they did, I know what- aahhg. He kicked me in the midichlorions!"

Before his hand could close around the com, however, a recorded hologram of Padme projected up from it. The holo of his wife glared down at him, unmoved by his pain. He groaned into his pillow. Anakin knew he was going to be in trouble with her, but he'd hoped that the coma thing might buy him some sympathy points.

"And this, Master Skywalker, is why _I_ will be yelling at you next time we meet," she told him.

The scene cut to security footage of Obi-Wan running down the hall with Boba over his shoulder to the healing center, Padme right behind him. This being somewhat closer to the beginning of Boba's episode, when he threw up this time it sprayed a bright green mess down the senator's shirt and pants. Anakin's heart sank, watching his sympathy points drip away with the goop rolling off of his wife.

In the next moment the three of them were in the healing center, Obi-Wan hyperventilating another rant into his hands while Padme coordinated the group.

"Last thing I said… LAST THING I- what is on his face, is that…? Why is his skin peeling off? Where is his hair? I'm not- he- there is too much vomit here. Too much vomit for that size. That looks like more volume than can reasonably be expected to be in a child. Is that too much vomit? Should I call Jango- no. No, I'm not calling Jango. I can't show him this, I can't… I am a responsible adult, and this isn't- I gave him the hat, I gave him the special hat, why would he think that I gave him the hat unless it was important that Boba wear the hat?"

"I am so sorry, Master Kenobi, I had to leave to make a senate meeting, but he promised me that he wouldn't do this," Padme assured the Jedi while she checked on Boba's IV. The child looked up to respond, and Anakin felt like he was watching ships crash in slow motion. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it-_

"Mr. Skywalker said he asked two questions and made an unrelated statement, which means it's not lying," Boba told her flatly, vomiting for punctuation.

Anakin pulled the bed sheet up over his head, resolving to grab the com and call Obi-Wan once his internal wailing had quieted down. Maybe an off-planet mission would be the way to go for the next decade.


	6. Ben-tective

**Ben-tective**

"Okay, Boba, you're just going to stay with my friend Padme here until I finish the very quick mission that I was on before we found that… _exciting surprise_ on your father's ship," Obi-Wan explained with a strained smile. Master Adi Galia had mentioned to him that shouting obscenities around a child about their parents was not considered conducive to positive early development, and Obi-Wan was damned if anyone was going to blame Jango's carefully instilled crazy on him. "You be good for Senator Amidala while I'm away."

Boba's face assumed it's usual resting state of neutral observation as he thoughtfully chewed the fibrous pulp of his pre-ground slurry. The clone hadn't yet graduated back to solid foods, but didn't appear to mind overmuch, as he had inexplicably failed to inherit his father's voracious appetite.

Obi-Wan checked for sharp objects, or ordinary objects that could be turned into sharp objects, or combinations of objects which, taken together, might rattle around in the head of a fun sized sociopath until they became some sort of lethal dustpan morningstar contraption. Satisfied that this was unlikely in the child's weakened state, he said his goodbyes and headed for the door.

"You don't have a list of fifty special things that I need to do to take care of him, Master Kenobi?" Padme asked, only half joking. A quarter joking. Pretending to be joking so as to not upset Obi-Wan's increasingly volatile mood, because you don't get to be Senator without learning how to read a room.

"No. Boba, this is my responsible friend. Responsible friend, Boba. I will be back in a week."

As the door slid shut behind the Jedi, Padme did her best not to fidget. The fact that she had to fight the urge annoyed her somewhat as fidgeting was not a characteristic problem of hers, but she didn't have a plan for this and she was a very plan oriented person. Normally she could improvise one, but normal children aren't vomiting assassins that you're not allowed to shoot.

Padme smiled broadly, muffling her internal monologue with increased focus on the task at hand.

"So Boba, I have to go to work. Would you like to see the senate building?"

The boy swallowed the remnants of his slurry, set it aside and nodded. That was… easy. Too easy? Yes. Double the body guards easy? Probably. The senator mentally swore at her husband and prepared herself for take-a-clone-to-work-day.

Obi-Wan half listened to the dignitary at the other end of the table, absently tracing out the basic position that it was laying down under the notes he'd made about his best and worst alternatives to a negotiated settlement. He jotted down the highlights, and points that would need to be expanded on to understand the delegate's full interests, but his heart just wasn't in it today. Anakin was in a coma, Boba was barely processing nutrients, and Jango had some new, unexplained horror in the bowels of his ship. That was a situation which he could have focused on, but this?

 _Oh, send Obi-Wan_ _to secure the backing of a rim world with a slave-driven economy, that doesn't sound like it will bother him at all_ _._ _Hey,_ _Obi-Wan will sit there and listen to stupid people say stupid things all day, and he hardly ever stabs anyone afterwords._

The Jedi nodded as the creature across the table clicked at him, and he added noises of concern and understanding at appropriate moments while his mind wandered. Jango's bomb affected both Anakin and Boba, but the fact that Boba was affected was unexpected- so, what do Anakin and Boba have in common that they shouldn't?

Obi-Wan tried unsuccessfully for the next few minutes to stem the tide of irritating personality traits that were eerily similar between his old and new charges from flooding through his brain. That was probably the wrong track. It had to be something that could be isolated and used to cause harm, or isolated and shut off, and harm would be caused in its absence. Anakin had to have more of it. Much more. That said, Obi-Wan knew Jango, and the bounty hunter almost certainly would have tested this out on himself, first, rather than risk surprises in the field. The fact that Jango was surprised that it worked on Boba meant that there must have somehow been a copying error in Boba's genetics, as Jango clearly expected his immunity to be passed down. This was something Anakin has in the extreme that Jango either doesn't have, or doesn't have enough of, to be affected.

Obi-Wan froze his 'I'm definitely listening' expression on his face as the gears in his mind caught in a brief panic-grind. Oh. OH. No, no, no, no, no, no, no-

Padme's com buzzed and she looked down at it briefly. Obi-Wan? Either the end date of his mission had changed, or he's decided to remind her about Boba's hat. She really preferred not to be caught checking her com during a Senate debate, and so she handed it to Boba, who had been quietly internalizing the goings-on of the Galactic Republic since that morning, to check. He was a strangely reliable little tag-along. Again, she worried about this being all too easy, but she might as well make use of it.

"Oh, I- Boba. What exactly is… happening with your hair?" Master Kenobi wondered, temporarily distracted by the swirls of abstract art emanating from the clone's head.

"It's Noobian."

"Aha. Having fun with Senator Amidala, I see. She wouldn't happen to be available, would she?"

"We're in a Senate meeting."

"Oh. What are you doing there?"

"Learning," the boy answered ominously.

"I see. You know the rules, Boba: don't blow anything up without me." Boba's mouth twitched momentarily into something resembling a smile. As much as Obi-Wan tried not to promote such behaviour, it made the boy very happy when he acknowledged his jokes. "Well, I was going to ask the Senator to do a favour for me, but I can see you two are busy. When the meeting ends, please ask her to take you back to the medi-centre. I've ordered one more test for you."

This statement earned Obi-Wan a brief twitch of the mouth downward into a frown. No doubt Boba knew full well that it was a test to check his midichlorion level.

"I'm not sick," the clone told him flatly.

"I just want to be sure. You were on a strange planet with a very different biome from what your immune system is used to."

Boba's expression didn't change this time, but there was a subtle darkening of his eyes. He would have to learn to truly control his emotions in order to prevent-

- _not a padawan_.

"After you get the tests done, call me back and I will tell Padme to take you to see your father this evening."

Boba nodded curtly and Obi-Wan ended the call, thinking for a moment before patching himself through to Jango's cell.

"I thought you were gone," his brother rumbled, answering the call.

"You weren't going to tell me that Boba should be able to use the Force?" Obi-Wan replied, equally shortly. He sat down and breathed deeply through his nose to reign himself in. Jango did the same, which irritated the Jedi irrationally.

"Of course not. Why would I go out of my way to make sure that you kept my son from me forever?" Jango replied. Obi-Wan attempted to take solace in the fact that it was probably difficult for Jango not to shout that whilst attempting to somehow spit on him through the com. They were both clearly making efforts to have this conversation as calmly as possible.

"That is not my intention."

"I know," Jango replied through gritted teeth, the strain of not attributing a horrible characteristic to Obi-Wan clear, "but it was the Jedi Order's intention when they stole you, and it may be their intention if they were to find out about Boba, but I had… I didn't think he was… like you in that regard. I should have known, but I obviously willfully overlooked a number of things."

"Nobody stole me, Jango."

"The Jedi came into our house in the middle of the night and took you. When I do that, people try to arrest me. For Stealing."

Obi-Wan had no good response, not having a very vivid memory of the event. That had always struck him as odd, considering the number of things he could remember before it, and, of course, the prolonged difficulties after.

"Where did you get a weapon that temporarily cuts Jedi off from the Force?" He asked instead. Jango leaned back, crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't tell people things for free, Ben." Obi-Wan did his very best not to roll his eyes, and yet he actually felt his head go around with them. "I'll tell you where I got it when you find out for me why my son has so many of my adopted brother's phenotypes."


	7. Hairy Situation

A/N: So it's been a while, eh? Woops. Thanks to everyone who stuck by this thing in the interim, you guys have been fantastic.

In this chapter, I took some liberties with the mechanics of Force connectivity, so if you think I said something weird, you're right.

Punching in the coordinates of Kamino, Obi-Wan glanced up into the glass of the ship's cockpit at his diminutive co-pilot's reflection. Boba sat, thinking to himself, while Obi-Wan watched. Looking at a member of the next generation with his own genetics wasn't something the Jedi had expected from his life, especially since that member bore no more physical resemblance to the Knight than any of Jango's other clones. Aside from the child's appearance, though, he had seemed to pass on a trait or so: slow metabolism, a slight allergy to medi tape, and most concerning, Force sensitivity.

Boba had a somewhat higher midichlorion count than Obi-Wan had expected. He would never have been picked to train at the temple, but with his level of discipline, Kenobi expected that the boy could gain a higher level of unity with the Force than some of the less conditioned knights. Except, of course, that he wasn't going to train him, because that would be a terrible idea. A deadly hunter who could go for weeks with little food or sleep, think his way around his prey and attack with exceptional accuracy _who was also trained in the use of the Force_? No. _No_.

"What does the Force feel like?" Boba asked suddenly, still staring off into actual space, surprising Obi-Wan with the absolutely unheard of act of initiating a conversation.

"Well… that's a bit like asking what smell feels like. It's difficult to say, because I have never gone without the sense. In fact, you can probably answer that question better than I can, considering your recent misadventures," the Knight explained. Boba did not acknowledge the answer, but Obi-Wan didn't expect him to; he'd given up on manners for the moment, opting to focus on more basic social rules such as the relative acceptability of making death threats with your eyes (low-moderate, better than with gestures).

"What does _using_ the Force feel like?" Boba wondered instead after a few minutes of silence.

"Like a pressure or warmth in your core, depending on who you ask. The exact sensation depends upon how exactly you are using it."

"Like when I'm shooting."

"Hm?"

"When I shoot, the pressure helps me aim the gun."

Oh no.

"Yes. Many Force sensitive people do find some manifestation of this ability in their lives before formal training." Stop. "Once you can recognize the feeling, it becomes easier to apply in various situations." _Stop_. "The first stage in recognizing your connection with the Force is through meditation." Emergency override: Master Mode Off.

"What's meditation?"

As they touched down on Kamino, Obi-Wan was still giving a detailed lecture on the foundational principals of the Jedi understanding of the Force. He couldn't help it- over the past decade, teaching had crept in to become a part of who he was. If he did it well, and if Boba could develop a connection with the living Force, perhaps his life would not be consumed by what seemed to be the inexplicable twin forces of resentment and revenge that were currently devouring his father. Boba was still young enough to grow up free from such troubles. After all, Anakin had been Boba's age when he began training, and he had turned out…

Hm.

Taun Wi met them as they entered the facility, drenched from the few moments they had spent on the landing dock.

"Commander Kenobi; welcome." She seemed slightly cool to him, but smiled warmly at Boba. Obi-Wan couldn't blame her. Completely lying about your identity for any amount of time does not usually create the most solid basis for a lasting friendship. "You called complaining of an error in our process, I believe?"

"Not an error per se. An anomaly," the Jedi explained carefully. "It seems Boba does not share 100% of his genetic material with Jango."

There was a long silence. Obi-Wan did not usually find silences awkward, starved for them as he had been while raising Anakin. He didn't think Boba minded them either, though he suspected that the child found the discomfort of others amusing, which probably had something to do with that. The look that Taun Wi was giving the Knight in the interim, however, was making this silence a particularly awkward one.

"That would be an error, Commander," she said at last, "and an unlikely one at that."

"Yes, I am certain that it is quite unusual, but I must insist that I review the particulars of the process which created Boba," Obi-Wan replied. Taun Wi bowed and had them escorted to Jango's old apartment while she retrieved the files.

As the door closed, the Jedi immediately turned his attention to Boba, who he was not surprised to find staring back at him. No doubt the child was waiting for a moment when he wasn't paying attention to retrieve any number of weapons which Jango was sure to have hidden in places that the sweep team was unlikely to find. After a few moments of weighing effectiveness against guilt for best possible child-sized headlocks, the door slid open again, revealing a somehow thinner than usual native of Kamino holding a small box. It occurred to Obi-Wan that a strong breeze might break this newcomer in half, when he noticed the sweat beading on the man's forehead.

"Commander Kenobi?" he squeaked. "I uh, you're here about an error in the unaltered clone?"

"An anomaly in Boba's DNA," the knight rephrased.

The man pushed the small box towards the Jedi, eyes wide and watery. Out of the corner of his own eye, he could see that Boba had temporarily lost interest in trying to stab/shoot/poison him, temporarily enthralled by the scene. Obi-Wan took the box and opened it slowly, brow furrowing as he uncovered the contents.

"It's a toy. It's…" he squinted down at the little stuffed animal, suddenly noticing the familiar rips and fades in the fabric, "my toy. Jango gave it to me when Jaster found me."

"I was one of the technicians assigned to working on the unaltered clone," the man explained.

"Boba," the Jedi interjected absently, mind working furiously as he pieced together what had happened before the technician could explain. "You were missing some piece of the DNA for Boba and you retrieved it from this toy."

"I thought it was Mr. Fett's," the man said earnestly, clasping his shaking hands in front of him. "There was radiation damage to the sample we took to make his requested unaltered copy. He was away and genetic samples are destroyed in the process of creating large batches, so there was nothing on hand to pull from. We were on a tight schedule and he wasn't set to be back for another six months. I came to this apartment to look for toiletries, but nothing was here. He had only left a few non-essentials and that doll, which I found a hair on."

"It's not a doll, it's..." Obi-Wan replied defensively, trailing off as he looked back down at what was definitely a box containing a small doll. An obviously ferocious yet serene doll which clearly spoke to his deep inner strength and/or early childhood love of fluffy woodland creatures. "That was quite reckless. He could have picked it up at a market. It might have been the merchant's hair, or anyone in the line of production."

The man shook his head. "The doll looked used, and Mr. Fett is very wealthy. I thought it must have been his, and he had intended to give it to his son as some sort of, um, sentimental-" he cut himself off as Boba narrowed his eyes at him. Obi-Wan put the lid back on the box. He agreed with the boy in that sentimentality was not one of Jango's prevailing characteristics, but the mood did seem to strike him every decade or so. "Please, Sir, if you would let me call off the files search. Please don't tell anyone. There will be no lasting damage to the unaltered clone… if anything it will make the DNA more resistant and less susceptible to degeneration. It was only 25% of possible human variation, and my tests indicate that both samples were from Concord Dawn, which made them relatively similar and… and he looks the same, and-"

"It will not be reported to anyone on Kamino," Kenobi assured him, "but do please send me the files for my inspection."

"Of course, Sir. Right away, Sir." The technician bowed and reached for the box, but Obi-Wan stopped him.

"I will relieve you of this item," he stated. The technician bowed again and left. Obi-Wan and Boba followed in silence, maintaining the quiet until they were well off-world.

"What does 25% of possible human variation mean?" Boba asked flatly.

"Well, for reference, a parent or non-identical sibling usually have 50% of any DNA which might be different between humans in common. A half-sibling, aunt or uncle would only have 25% similarity," Obi-Wan explained, projecting cheery animation over an inner monologue which had devolved into confused wailing. Such was life when Jango was involved. This was why Jedi didn't have families.

Boba nodded, face as neutral as ever, but with a slight hollowness of expression which suggested that his brain was making the same noises as his uncle Ben's.

"So I'm not my father's clone," he recognized, watching the stars go by without seeing them.

"No," the knight replied, fishing in his utility belt for another nutri-pack to turn into a slurry for the boy, "you're his son."

Boba nodded again and sat back in his seat as the ship's com buzzed to life. Obi-Wan answered, and a bed-ridden Anakin flopped his arms at him urgently.

"Obi-Wan, it's the medichlorions, the explosion-"

"Prevented them from allowing you to connect with the Force."

"Yes! And Boba-"

"Was also affected, suggesting that he has some ability to use the Force himself."

"Right! And we have to-"

"Find a way to get Jango to tell us where and from whom he acquired such a device."

Anakin paused, frowning. "I feel left out."

"That's what happens when you ignore me and use small children to diffuse booby traps," Obi-Wan retorted. Noticing an odd motion beside him, he looked over at Boba, who had his hand outstretched, making squeezing motions with his hand. "Boba, what are you doing?"

"I'm choking him with the Force."

"You can't use the Force over electronics. Also, don't choke Anakin," the Knight admonished.

"Actually, I've been thinking about that, and you probably could-" his ex-apprentice began, before Obi-Wan flicked off the com.

Boba retracted his hand and crossed his arms. The Jedi sighed. Well, he definitely wasn't going to be the fun uncle, but as long as Anakin wasn't the fun cousin who tells the child that he can call someone up and choke them to death, this might be salvageable. He'd just have to wait and see if Anakin was going to figure that out.


End file.
